who’s to say it won’t happen again? To me?” He understood exactly what she was saying. He was the wrong man for her. Another bad choice. “I would never turn my back on my own child,” he said.
“I know. You’re not anything like Cruz. He was a self-absorbed, spoiled child. You’re responsible and mature.”
“You can say that with a straight face after everything we did last night?” He almost blushed thinking about what they’d done in the restaurant kitchen.
“Yes, I can. I know you would put my life before yours in a heartbeat. But I also know that you would not choose to have a baby. Fortunately, that’s not something you have to worry about.”
He shifted his weight on top of her and kissed her, filled with a rush of affection for her. She’d made some difficult decisions. She’d taken responsibility for her actions.
He wished he could be the right man for her. She deserved someone who would love her unconditionally. Someone who would be there for her, always, not running off on dangerous missions, staying gone for weeks at a time. Someone who would welcome her babies.
Yes, she was right about him. He would not choose to bring a child into the world—for all the same reasons he chose not to marry or let his professional and personal lives become enmeshed. He refused to put his loved ones in danger or make them worry about him.
“I guess I didn’t repulse you?” she asked.
“Nothing you could do would repulse me.” On the contrary, everything she said and did turned him on more. She was like an addictive drug.
“Good. Because I was rather enjoying all this.” She reached down, running her hand along his ribs, then across his chest. Her fingers paused to explore the raised scar that ran along his sternum.
“You’ll find lots more of those on me if you look,” he said. “I’ve got a dandy one on my leg, another across my back. I’m not very pretty.”
She huffed at that, then skittered across his belly with her hand, arriving at his growing arousal. “This is all the pretty I need.” She took it possessively into her hand.
He groaned.
“I know it’s temporary,” she said.
“It’ll last long enough.”
She giggled. “No. I meant you and me. I know we can’t be together long-term. But I’m okay with that. I don’t want you to feel bad.”
“I don’t feel bad. I feel very, very good, and I’m going to feel better in a moment or two.” He moved on top of her. He did not want to talk about, or even think about, the day they would say goodbye.
Lucy stood under the spray in Bryan’s enormous shower, feeling cleansed both inside and out. She was glad she’d unburdened herself last night. Maybe her confession was a bit more elaborate than Bryan had been prepared for, but she’d needed to say it. She hadn’t talked about Cruz or her pregnancy to anyone since her miscarriage. Her parents had wanted her to bury the past, forget it had ever happened. But as awful as it was, Cruz and the pregnancy were a part of her now. She felt she had a new perspective on it. Yes, she’d been naive, and she’d made a mistake. But she wasn’t evil.
Thanks to Bryan, she wasn’t stuck anymore. She could move on, live normally, leave the sackcloth and ashes behind.
Bryan tapped on the bathroom door. “You’re going to use up all the hot water.”
He was back from cleaning up the restaurant. “Then join me.” She’d been fantasizing about herself and Bryan in this decadent shower, with its acres of red glass tile and twin shower sprays, since she’d first seen it the day Scarlet came over for her makeover.
“Hey. You don’t have to ask me twice.”
Just when she thought she couldn’t possibly make love again, for she ached in places she hadn’t known existed, they did.
Eight
Lucy had mixed feelings about her computer work now. Yes, she wanted to solve the puzzle of who the embezzler was at Alliance Trust. But the sooner that person was arrested and all parties brought to justice, the sooner she and Bryan would part.
Duty won out, and she worked hard on her latest project, which was matching up log-in times with the times the illicit funds transfers had occurred.
By lunch, she’d eliminated several more candidates. She was closing in. Only five suspects. One of them was Omar Kalif, a loan officer of Iranian descent. She’d always liked Omar. He was funny and hardworking, and he would turn himself inside out to find a way to get a client qualified for a loan. He had a darling wife, two kids.
Well, she would let Bryan worry about that. Her job was to solve the puzzle.
Bryan had told her he would be tied up today and probably wouldn’t be home until late. He’d been vague about what he would be doing. She didn’t know if he was in the city or had jetted off some place, risking life and limb.
She tried not to think about it. She tried not to worry, to keep herself busy. But she had a vivid imagination. If anything ever happened to Bryan, would she be notified? What about his family? Would anyone explain to them that he was a spy, that he’d died defending their country? Or would he just disappear, leaving the family to wonder?
She couldn’t live like that long-term. Even if Bryan were willing to change his policy and make a commitment, she didn’t think she could. Yes, it was exciting working with and living with a spy. But it wasn’t a forever kind of arrangement.
Bryan had told her to go downstairs to the restaurant when she got hungry, that Stash would take care of her. He’d fixed the elevator so it would recognize her voice and had instructed her on passwords and “panic pass-words”—in case she was ever in the elevator under duress. She’d laughed at the cloak-and-dagger antics, but he’d been serious.
She went down to Une Nuit to rustle up some lunch. She entered through the kitchen, and her face grew warm as she was reminded of what had gone on there the previous night.
“Lindsay!” Stash Martin greeted her with a double air-kiss. “Bryan said you’d be down for lunch. Scarlet’s in the Elliott booth if you want to sit with her.”
“I don’t want to intrude—”
“Nonsense. I am sure she would welcome your charming company.” Refusing to acknowledge any further protests, Stash led her into the dining room, where Scarlet, dressed in the most gorgeous teal dress with feathers all around the neck, shared a booth with another woman who had her back to Lucy.
Scarlet looked both surprised and pleased when she saw Lucy. “Oh, please join us,” she said. “We haven’t even ordered yet. This is Jessie. I don’t think you’ve met her.”
The other woman smiled warmly and shook Lucy’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Lindsay.”
“Same here. Scarlet, I didn’t realize you had another sister.”
“What?” both women said at the same time.
Lindsay looked at Scarlet, then Jessie, then Scarlet
